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Gemma’s back arched at his touch, her breath coming from her in rough gasps, her heart racing and a coil of fire burning inside of her as she wrapped her legs around Frederick’s back and begged him not to stop.

Upon her demand to continue, he suddenly stopped and pulled away his fingers. Gemma howled inside at the sudden cessation of pleasure and looked at him imploringly, but Frederick remained still.

“Such a good girl, Gemma.”

“Frederick…”

“Yes… say my name again.”

“Frederick.”

“I am going to take you now.”

Her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs encircled his hips, pulling him closer to feel his manhood and will it inside of her. He paused, his eyes searching hers, his face mere inches away as he spoke with surprising gentleness.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No. Please… do not stop.”

“It will hurt.”

“Donotstop.”

He positioned himself between her thighs, slowly entering her wet tunnel. Gemma immediately felt his girth fill her as he drove himself more deeply inside of her. As he touched the final entrance into her depth, he hesitated and looked at her.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes. I am yours, take me.”

Frederick braced his hips against hers and slid into her recesses. His throbbing shaft met the resistance of her maidenhood and he breached its walls as Gemma cried out from the sharp but brief pain.

He pulled out, then plunged himself into her again, this time more forcefully as the pleasure enveloped them both.

Gemma’s breath had become a frenetic rasp as her fingers dug into Frederick’s shoulder blades and her legs repeatedly pulled him into her.

The smell of him, the sound of his sighs, and the feel of his body surrounding her spurred her on. It was relentless but wonderful, a sensation she never imagined.

And she couldn’t get enough of it.

His every exhale, every low groan in her ear, sent tremors through her body, urging her to move faster, to match his pace.

Frederick’s hands roamed over her, memorizing her curves, as if he wanted to claim every part of her. The way his body pressed against hers, powerful yet controlled, was a sensation that bordered on overwhelming.

Her own nails dug lightly into his back as she wrapped herself around him, pulling him even closer, as though she feared he might drift away if she loosened her grip.

“Gemma…” he groaned, his voice heavy with desire, his eyes clouded yet focused intently on her face.

“Frederick,” she whispered, breathless, feeling a spark of fire that kept building inside her, urging her to go faster, deeper, her body lost in the tidal wave of sensation.

The friction, the heat, the sheer intensity of it—all of it sent her spiraling higher, her breath hitching with each thrust.

“Frederick, I… I…”

“Yes, darling. That’s it. Come for me,” he said, a wicked smile forming on his lips.

A tidal wave had gathered in her body and was slowly pulsing forward and gathering strength, threatening to sweep her away with its monumental force. She felt herself fall into the burgeoning tide and ride the uppermost wave of ecstasy until she exploded in rapture and cried out his name.

“Frederick,” she gasped his name as waves of pleasure crashed through her, leaving her trembling in his arms.