Page 21 of A Touch of Fate

His fingers hooked in my panties, and he pulled them down.

Heat filled my cheeks from the intense look in his eyes as he raised them from my center to my face.

Never taking his gaze off me, he gripped my upper thigh and parted me.

I should have looked away, but I couldn’t bring myself to.

I wanted to watch the hunger in Samuel’s eyes as he looked at me.

He dragged his thumb along my crease, and I sucked in a startled breath, too caught up in the sensation to be embarrassed because my body didn’t react as easily.

He rubbed my folds very lightly, then pushed between them.

I could feel that I was only slightly wet and worried that he’d be frustrated with my lack of reaction, but Samuel dipped the pad of his thumb into me, causing me to gasp again.

He began to draw out my arousal and spread it on my folds and clit, dip and swirl, dip and swirl, over and over again until I was panting and ready, even without lubricant.

He pushed his thumb into me once more, but this time, he didn’t pull it back out.

Instead, he started circling while his two fingers stroked my clit.

I stared at his strong hand, at the fingers giving me pleasure.

I could feel every movement as if he was tugging at my nerve endings like a puppet master.

It was indescribable, and I clung to the blankets, panting, gasping, losing control of my body and the sounds coming from my mouth.

“Good,” he encouraged in a low voice. “You’re doing very good, Emma.”

His praise sent a new flood of arousal through me.

He pulled out his thumb and brushed two fingers over my opening.

I tensed, waiting for the discomfort, but Samuel held my gaze as he began rubbing my clit with his thumb, making me pant once more before he began to ease his fingers into me.

My brows snatched together at the stretching sensation.

It wasn’t painful, but definitely uncomfortable.

“Remember, you can say stop anytime,” he reminded me again.

“I know,” I pressed out, slightly annoyed because I didn’t want him to treat me like a porcelain doll.

“You’re only eighteen, Emma. You’re very inexperienced, so I treat you how a good husband should treat his young virgin bride, but trust me, no part of me wants to stop.”

His words made me flush, but then he pushed his fingers deeper into me and pressed harder against my clit, and any sane thought left my mind. Silence settled over us except for my pants and moans and Samuel’s deep breathing. I could feel my control slipping more and more as my pleasure mounted.

I bit my lip, and tension shot through my belly as waves of pleasure radiated from my center all through my body.

Samuel looked up, his intense gaze focusing on my face.

In the throes of my orgasm, I was unable to look away, to do anything but allow my body to run the show and ride the waves of pleasure.

Samuel watched me the entire time, only briefly averting his gaze to watch his fingers on me, in me .

He still moved them, but slower, his thumb only lightly circling my sensitive clit.

I was lost in the sensations, amazed at my body, at his ability to allow me this.

His fingers kept up their teasing, allowing me to relish the pleasurable aftermath of my release.

Then he pushed off me, straightening to his full impressive height, and started undressing.

My eyes followed his progress, terrified and excited, as he shed one piece of clothing after the other until he stood before me completely naked.

I exhaled when I caught sight of his erection, exhilarated that I had done this to him, but at the same time scared of having him in me.

He was so much bigger than two fingers, which had already been uncomfortable.

Sleeping with someone, with him, had always been such an abstract concept. For a long time, I hadn’t thought it would happen to me at all. I’d never felt more woman than I did at this moment, strangely empowered by my body’s reaction.

Samuel climbed back on the bed. “Is this what you want?”

What I wanted? My body wanted every part of Samuel and had never felt a desire more potent. My head wanted love and affection, wanted the fantasy version of how a first time was supposed to be. I wasn’t a dreamer.

“Yes,” I breathed out, half tempted to ask him the same question.

He gave a curt nod before he pushed my legs apart so he could settle between them.

His actions were very effective, considerate, and kind, but they weren’t affectionate.

I shut my head down, knowing full well these thoughts weren’t going to help.

He lowered himself to his elbows. My breaths came faster, and my heart thundered in my chest when I felt a light pressure. This was it.

Samuel held my gaze and brushed his lips across mine in a surprising act of gentleness before he started to push in.

I clung to his back and gasped against his mouth from pain this time.

I forced myself to relax. Fighting the pain would only make it worse.

I knew all about pain, and this was nothing in comparison.

His expression became strained as he entered me slowly, then paused when he was inside me.

I shivered, trying to get used to the intense stretching sensation.

Samuel looked at my face, then did the first light thrust. I winced, my breath hitching. He kept moving very slowly, his eyes on me.

Maybe I should have been embarrassed by his continuous gaze, but he was so calm and confident that it helped with my own nerves.

His thrusts soon became harder, faster, and the twinge turned into a throbbing pain, but I kissed him and held back the whimpers because I’d waited for this moment. Maybe I was still trying to prove everyone who thought I couldn’t lead a normal life wrong.

He came with a groan and shudder, and I felt him release into me, felt his twitch and his muscles softening. For a moment, he remained in me, on me, but then he rolled off, his chest heaving.

I turned my head toward him, my breath coming in short, stunned exhales as the reality of what just happened set in.

He’d claimed me and had enjoyed it from the look of it.

I could have laughed and cried from joy despite the throbbing between my thighs.

I wanted to scream at the people who’d thought this marriage would never come to be.

Samuel closed his eyes with a sigh, and I allowed myself to trace his body with my eyes—his wide chest, his ripped stomach, narrow waist, and the trimmed dark blond hair around his half-erect cock. His thighs and erection were smeared with my blood, causing me to flush.

I wanted to touch him with a despaired longing I was entirely unfamiliar with, but he didn’t feel like mine to touch yet. I was his, by law, by tradition, and because he’d claimed me as such, but he didn’t feel like mine. I wondered if he ever would.