His voice trailed off. He never actually asked a question, only set about untying the ribbon at the neckline of her ivory shift. Like the black gown, it was only an everyday thing, not fine or suited for a wedding night. He didn’t seem to care as he traced along the gathers and parted the placket with roughly masculine effort. His hand seemed as big as her whole chest.
Don’t think of that. Don’t think of how big he is! She had only just emerged from her heart-racing terror and had no wish to plunge back into it again. No, this felt too pleasant, his stroking and caresses. He peered down at her, studying her face. Did he see the effort she made to keep the hysteria at bay?
“I would like to see your whole body, and admire it, and shape it with my palms, darling. May I?” His words sounded so pretty, so like poetry, that she couldn’t bring herself to say no. She leaned forward so he might gather her cotton shift and draw it up over her head. He laid it beside her as if to say, there, it’s right there if you need it.
“Lie down now,” he said, pressing her back by the shoulders. “Yes, just like that. Let me play with you a while.”
Play with her? Oh goodness. He dropped kisses down the line of her throat, wet, wicked kisses that lingered and heated her skin. He caressed her breasts, even though she shrank back and tried to push his hands away. He merely used his mouth instead, licking across the tip and laughing softly when she made a shocked sound at the sensation. The teasing touch made her hips move again, made her whole body arch to him. He licked the other nipple in a slow, lazy swirl that caused unsettling amounts of sensitivity. Then he closed his teeth and bit down upon the tip.
“Oh!” She tried to squirm away but he trapped her with his legs. “Oh, did you mean to do that?”
“Yes, I did mean to. I adore those lovely, frantic noises you make.” When she scowled, he grinned at her and went back to the languid teasing. And my, it felt very fine, though her one nipple ached with extra intensity. Then he held her down and bit the other, in a blooming eruption of pain. “I had to make them match,” he said when she protested. “I can’t nip one and not the other.”
“I wish you would stop nipping altogether.” Were these the wild humors her mother had warned her about? Gentlemen shouldn’t bite ladies. She was about to tell him so when he distracted her by kissing lower, along her torso to her trembling waist. He blew against the curving flare of her hip in the most tantalizing way and peeked up at her through his lashes. “The first time I saw you, I wanted to touch you here. I wanted to hold you and…” He smiled. “Well, I’ll show you in a bit. Is anything hurting yet?”
“No,” she said, having forgotten about wild humors for the moment. “It feels rather…nice.”
“It gets better. Let me show you.” As he said it, he pressed her legs open, persisting when she would have closed them. “There’s a secret, lovely part of you here.” He delved his fingers through her nether curls while she shuddered at the intimate touch.
“You shouldn’t do that,” she said.
“Oh, but I should. You’ll see.” He moved his fingers to a particular spot, a spot she’d become more aware of as he kissed her and licked her nipples. He teased at it now, a soft touch that set off an explosion of heated, enervating…warmth. No, warmth was not the word for it. It was rather more exotic and tingling than that.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Making you feel good, I hope. Are you still breathing? Keep your legs still.”
She did as he asked, only because he seemed to know all about this marital rights thing. He knew exactly what he ought to do and really what she ought to do too, which seemed a formidable talent indeed. She watched him, waiting for further instructions, but he’d moved his head lower, to nestle his lips against the place where his fingers had caused such an uproar. He parted her and kissed her there, and Josephine lost all power to speak.
Why, he was marvelous. The things he could do, with such deftness and confidence. He licked her center, massaging the tiny bud that ached between her legs. She tossed her head from side to side, wondering how on earth he had learned to do this thing that rendered her speechless and powerless to resist. She had never felt such intense sensation, such thick and heady pleasure. She thought to herself, My mother was so wrong. This isn’t the kind of hurt that causes pain and agony. This hurt is something else altogether. It was longing and agitation, and tactility, and nagging, spiraling need.
“Oh, please,” she sighed, grabbing handfuls of his light blond hair, and this time she wasn’t pleading for him to stop. She was pleading for him to keep going. His lips and tongue curled around that tender, needful place, driving the pleasure higher. To her shock, he pushed a finger inside her, stretching and working her quim’s opening until her hips bucked.
“Please,” she begged. “Please!” She had no idea what she was begging for, but he must have, for his fingers pressed inside her harder, deeper.
“Let it come,” he said, in between stroking and kissing her there. “You needn’t wait.”
Oh, she had no ability to wait, or regain any semblance of control. She felt so curiously frantic and full where he caressed her, and hot and wet and wild with urges she’d never felt before. She threw back her head as his fingers and mouth caressed her, and then the fullness peaked and seemed to overflow. The lower half of her body tensed inward and contracted in an undulating sort of wave. She knew that word, ecstasy, but until now she had never really felt it. Her body squeezed and shivered, the warmth of his tongue soothing at first and then so sensitive she pushed him away. He laughed and drew back, kissing her body, part by part, region by region, all the way back up to her lips. She tasted her scent on him, wondering at the piquant flavor. So many mysteries she’d never known. The biggest mystery of all was that a man’s touch could make her feel this way.
“It didn’t hurt at all,” she said when she got her voice back.
His fingertips played against the top of her stockings, tracing the garters. “There’s more.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t be alarmed.” He kissed her again, as if to give her strength. “It doesn’t hurt any more than the first part, which you seemed to enjoy very much. Well, perhaps it will hurt just a bit the first time, but nothing like having your arms and legs lopped off. And it only smarts at the very beginning of the first time, or so I’m told.”
She froze, her contentment ebbing away. “You’ve never done this part before?”
“No, I have,” he said, working at the front of his breeches. “But never with a virgin. So, you and I must make our best attempt to muddle through. Do you know how men are made, Josephine?”
He pushed his breeches down and off and knelt back, so she could see the entirety of him. She tried not to look shocked. He was huge in front, and stiff, and thick.
“You remember when I slipped my fingers inside you? Inside your pussy?”
She flinched at the bizarre word. “My…pussy?”
“Inside you, where you were hot and wet? Well…”
She worked the rest out herself, and shook her head. “I can’t imagine that will work.”
“It will work just fine, aside from the initial pain I mentioned, which is possibly just a myth.”
She continued to stare at his swollen organ. If he were to lessen in size, all of this would make more sense. A finger was one thing, but that rod of his was the size of five fingers. Perhaps six. Seven? The more she gazed at it, the greater and harder it seemed to grow. “Is it necessary to do this part?” she asked, swallowing hard.
He made a fist of his hand and stroked it down the length of his swollen shaft. “It most certainly is. Would you like to touch me? I don’t want you to be afraid.”
It’s a bit late for that. Panic sheared along her nerves. This was the hurt she had heard whispers about. This was the hurt her mother warned her against. Men are brutes. They can’t help it. You must protect yourself from them at all cost.
“Do you trust me?” he said. He took her h
and and placed it upon his upthrust organ. It was warm and velvety in texture, but so hard beneath. He stroked her hand up and down it, which only made her more aware of its outrageous size.
“Oh, well,” she whispered. “I’m sure it won’t fit.”
“Will you let me try?”
He came down over her again, his legs and hips warm against hers, no longer encased in his breeches. The muscles she had noticed and admired were now pressed right against her. He dug his knees into the bed and she braced, but he only smoothed the length of his shaft along the hot, wet crevice between her legs.
“It will feel strange at first to have me inside you,” he said against her ear. “But it will feel less strange when you give it some time.”
“How long will it hurt?” she whispered.
“Only a very, very short time.”
*** *** ***
Warren sometimes liked to hurt women. In fact, he’d developed an extensive repertoire of techniques to make women writhe in erotic torment, but he didn’t want to hurt Josephine tonight. Not now, not her first time. He held himself carefully above her as he nestled the head of his cock against her virginity. “Look at me,” he said, thinking to distract her with a kiss. He touched his lips to hers, catching her breathless pants of terror in his mouth. Now that she’d seen his prodigious size and knew exactly where he intended to put it, it was probably best to get the deed done rather than make her wait.
He pressed tentatively against her, grasping for control. Her heat and tightness, her very virginity fired his blood so much that he wished to thrust inside her to the hilt, but she wasn’t a courtesan, or a whore. She was an innocent, and she was afraid.
He spread her legs wider with his knees. She trembled as he kissed her again, and then he began to ease himself into her tight sheath. Even with the moisture of her arousal, it was a challenging task. She dug her fingernails into his skin and went rigidly tense. He held her close, kissing her jawline, nuzzling her cheekbone and temple when she turned her face away.
“It hurts,” she said in a soft whine. “It hurts a great deal.”
“Just for now, I promise. Give it a moment. You’ll grow accustomed to me.”
He had no doubt she felt very uncomfortably impaled, but he was uncomfortable too, for very different reasons. Namely, his balls and cock felt about to explode.