“Yes, yes, yes,” she said as he filled her with his throbbing cock.
“Yes, move your hips for me, take all of me.”
“This feels different. It feels so different and wonderful.”
He silenced her chattering with a kiss and covered her with his body, bearing her down into the covers. He trapped her beneath him with her head between his elbows and fucked her with abandon. As she neared her crisis, she writhed back and forth making such satisfied noises, it was all he could do to hold back his own climax. Her hair tumbled over her face as she lost herself in pleasure. Her lips parted for his kisses then opened wide to feed him her passions, and still he drove in, drove deeper, drove faster. When she found her release, she nearly bit him but he didn’t mind it, and only kissed her harder. Her walls clamped upon him as she let out a long and shuddering groan. No matter how tenderly and politely he began, he always ended with wild, abandoned thrusts, but when she made such noises, how could it be helped?
He emptied himself inside her, arching over her to watch her watching him. She found him handsome, he knew. She found him sexy. He used this leverage to woo her, and she used her enthusiasm to delight him.
And then…
Then afterward she became shy and coy, and avoided his gaze as if she was the world’s most innocent wife. Silly thing. When she avoided his gaze, he turned her face back and kissed her, a soft, lingering kiss as they both drifted in satisfaction. She squeezed around his cock, the aftershocks of a passionate joining. Finally, when he broke the kiss, she smiled at him.
“That was an entirely different way to couple,” she said. “I could watch you the whole time.”
“And did you?”
She shook her head. “Not the whole time. Some of the time it felt too good for me to look at anything.”
He sighed and sank to the bed beside her. “My dear, you say the best things.” For a while, he watched her thinking, then she turned to him, eyes narrowed in question. “How many ways are there to do this? Are there more than the two we’ve tried?”
“Yes,” he said, amused. “There are all sorts of positions.”
“Positions. Hmm.”
She thought some more, doubtless trying to picture them. What a naughty mind.
“What is your favorite position?” she asked after a moment.
“Once we’ve tried them all, I’ll let you hazard a guess.”
Why couldn’t he stop touching her hair? It was so soft. Her eyes were soft too, and growing sleepy in the candlelight. What was his favorite position? He’d enjoyed making love to her tonight in the more traditional position. To his shame, he sometimes thought about Ophelia when he took Jane from behind, but the temptation wasn’t there when they were face to face. He ought to have made love to her this way before now.
“Are you tired, darling?” he asked. “Should I let you be?”
“I am a bit tired. It’s been a long day.” A hint of recrimination shadowed her features, quickly gone. She was too contented now to hold a grudge.
“Go prepare for bed, then,” he said. “I’ll put out the candles so both of us can get some sleep.”
*
Jane rose in the morning feeling replete with satisfaction, and sore and disgruntled at the same time. Her husband had left her bed early to ride the boundaries of his property, as was his habit. She was the one left with the memories of his consummate kisses. He’d held her so close the night before, and practically made her cry with pleasure. When she thought she must know everything about lovemaking, he always managed to teach her something new that astonished and delighted her. She could not despise him even though her bottom still ached from his switching. She could only melt for him again and again.
Why was this emotional disparity so difficult for her? Perhaps because she still questioned whether he loved her. Sometimes she imagined he saw her as a toy in the bedroom and a project out of it, a project to mold and develop into his image of a proper lady, an improved lady. She glanced over at the padded portion of her footboard and shuddered, then threw down the counterpane so it would be covered. Even hidden from view, she knew it was there, a constant reminder of the perils of misbehavior.
When she finally rose and washed, she saw that her courses had come upon her in the night, and she was glad, for it would give her an excuse to fend him off for a handful of days. She needed time to sort out her feelings without Edward continually seducing her and making her crave him. She dreamed of him with regularity, of his large, beautiful amber eyes and the deep black hair framing his face. She loved the feel of his hair beneath her fingers. And when he kissed her…