Page 51 of What's an Earl Gotta Do?
“Perhaps you could assist me,” she murmured.
He barked out a laugh. “That would probably be wise. Another minute of you stroking me like that, and I’m likely to finish before we even get started.”
She flushed. He made quick work of the buttons and flexed his hips, pushing his breeches and drawers off together and tossing them aside.
She gaped at him. He was... he was huge, there was no other way to put it. He was long, and he was so, so thick, and even though she hadn’t been a virgin in years, she was not at all certain that this was going to work.
“Anne, look at me.” She did, and she saw such tenderness in his eyes. He took her in his arms and started kissing her again, and it felt so beautiful, being with Michael like this, it felt more than beautiful, it felt…
Right.
He lifted his head. “Better?”
“Yes,” she said, and she meant it. “Michael, I… I want you.”
He rolled her onto her back and positioned himself above her. “You have no idea how much I want you, Anne. No idea.” He snagged a pillow and slid it underneath her hips.
She felt him aligning himself at her entrance. He paused, his forehead resting against hers, his eyes closed. Then he opened them, and the look in Michael Cranfield’s eyes, just before he made love to her for the first time... she recognized it as the inscrutable face he had made after that awful picnic, just before he told her that she meant everything to him. Only in this moment, when he was on the cusp of making her his own, it was a thousand times more poignant. Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over. Slowly he began sliding into her. She spread her legs and tried to relax. And before she knew it, he was seated fully inside of her.
As he began to move, Anne felt her neck and shoulders, which she hadn’t even realized were clinched, relax. She’d been half-expecting their joining to hurt because of Michael’s extraordinary size, but there was no pain, none at all.
She glanced up at Michael. He was studying her intently, his jaw clenched. “Maybe more like this?” he said, adjusting the pillow to raise the angle of Anne’s hips.
“Oh! Wh-whatever you like.”
“I’m more concerned with what you would like,” Michael muttered.
He continued his gentle thrusts for a minute, then reached down to shift the pillow again. “How does that feel?”
Anne swallowed. Part of her wanted to tell him that he needn’t trouble himself, that she just wasn’t one of those women who derived pleasure from the act of lovemaking. She couldn’t bring herself to be quite so bold, so instead she said, “Don’t worry about it, Michael. It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not.” She watched a vein pop out on the side of his neck. His shoulders beneath her hands could have been made of iron. “Fine is not fine.” He reached down and began fumbling with the pillow again. “I mean, maybe it is, but I’m at least going to try to make it good for you.”
“Really, Michael, it’s—oh!”
He froze, holding her at the precise angle he had just found. “Oh?”
That place he was now rubbing, that felt… interesting. “Oh… Oh my.”
Michael was studying her face intently. “Does that feel good?”
It felt better with each passing stroke. “It does. I just—I need—” Anne had no idea what she needed, but suddenly she was acutely aware that she needed something.
“How about this?” Michael asked, starting to circle his hips slightly instead of just thrusting back and forth. “Does that feel good? Or am I too big?”
“Oh, Michael!” And just like that, she had discovered the thing she needed, which was for Michael Cranfield to rub that magic spot inside of her. Just. Like. That. “You’re not too big. You’re just the right size. You’re absolutely perfect.” She groaned and her head lolled back onto the pillow.
Above her, Michael grinned, although his brow remained knotted. “Good.”
Anne became aware of things she’s been too tense to notice just moments before. Michael’s body, gorgeous beneath her hands, rubbing against her best and most sensitive spots. The delicious sensation of all of his skin pressed up against all of hers. How much she loved his weight on top of her, pressing her into the mattress. The adoration in his eyes as he looked down at her.
Or maybe it was some mysterious combination of those things. But whatever it was, Anne felt her thighs began to tremble anew, and that feeling returned, the one where she felt like she was about to explode. She heard herself babbling his name, and then he started circling his hips faster, and then... Oh... oh... ohhhhhhhh!
Her world shattered a second time, and somehow the pleasure was even sweeter than before. Michael caught her eye, and she found herself unable to look away from the unbridled joy in his eyes as he watched her reach her climax.
He switched from the circling motion to the in-and-out thrusts he’d started with, and moments later, the pleasure was upon him. His thrusts became frantic, then his entire body grew as hard as stone above hers, and then it was his turn to shake and to call out her name. She felt him spasming inside of her, and she was treated to the sight of a face she had never seen from Michael before, a face that said he was experiencing the most pure, overwhelming pleasure.
He collapsed on top of her, breathing hard. She cradled his head against her neck and traced her fingers over his back. “Mmmmmm,” he murmured.
