Page 42 of Modern Romance September 2025 1-4

I slide my fingers into the rough silk of his hair as the heat of his mouth consumes me.

He moves fast, desperate almost as he jerks at the buttons and zip of his trousers, opening them up and freeing himself.

Breaking our kiss for a moment, he pulls his wallet out from his pocket and grabs a condom from it.

I want to put it on him myself, because I’m dying to touch him, but he brushes my hands away, deals with the packet and then sheaths himself.

Once he’s done, he grabs my hips, lifts me up, pulls aside my underwear and then eases me down onto him.

He’s big and thick, and I gasp as he pushes inside me.

The feel of him at first is too much, but just when I think I can’t take any more I realise it’s actually not enough.

I shudder as I settle on him at last, holding his gaze and watching his golden eyes turn to smoky amber, glowing like dragon’s fire.

He gives another growl and his fingers press against my hips as he begins to move me, showing me how to ride him, a slow up and down that soon has me panting. I want to move faster, harder, but he doesn’t let me, keeping me in a languid rhythm that seems to wind everything inside me so tight.

‘Faster,’ I tell him, chafing at the speed he’s setting.

‘No,’ he says roughly. ‘Take what you’re given.’

For some reason I find that shockingly erotic, and so is the speed he insists on. I can’t believe how quickly the pleasure is building and it takes me by surprise. He sees my shock and bares his teeth at me, triumphant that he’s doing this to me.

But it’s a triumph we share, because I can see what I’m doing to him as well. The lines of his face are taut, the muscles of his body tense. He’s holding himself back, that’s obvious, but I don’t want that for him. If I’m a volcano, then he is too, and we can’t hold back an eruption.

I put my hands on his hard chest and lean forward, kissing him again, using my teeth this time, because I think he’ll like the savagery of it.

He does. He gives a rough curse and then finally moves faster, harder, and it feels so good.

For the first time in my life, I want it to last for more than ten minutes. I want it to last for ever.

But of course it can’t, because then he’s touching me again, his hand down between my thighs to where we’re joined. He’s stroking me there, the friction and feel of him inside me making the tight knot of pleasure burst apart, ecstasy flooding my veins like wildfire.

I cry out and he moves twice more, hard and deep, and then he shudders, his own guttural sound of pleasure escaping as the orgasm comes for him too.

All the strength has gone out of me so I slump forward against him, turning my face against the warmth of his neck, closing my eyes as my frantic breathing slows.

I can hear the strong beat of his heart slowing too.

He’s still gripping my hips firmly, keeping me in place, the warmth of his breath in my hair.

‘Woman,’ he murmurs, breathless and rough. ‘If that’s just a taste of what you’re capable of, then you’re going to be the death of me.’

This sounds like it’s a good thing, and for the first time in a very long time I smile. I’m pleased with myself. This feels very much like solving a thorny and complicated equation after many months of hard research.

Ulysses shifts and I make a lazy protest as he takes my chin in his long fingers, tilting my head so he can look into my face. ‘Stop complaining,’ he chides in a lazy drawl. ‘Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you?’

My body is humming with the after effects of two orgasms and I can safely say I have never felt better in my entire life. ‘I’m absolutely wonderful,’ I tell him solemnly. ‘And what about you? Did I hurt you?’

His expression relaxes, the warmth of his genuine smile lighting his face. ‘No, Katla mine, you did not. Perhaps next time you should. I don’t mind a little pain.’

Next time? Does he assume we’ll be doing this again? ‘So…you want to do this again?’

His smile turns sensual. ‘What? Do you think a quick fuck on a plane is all I want?’

I flush at the terminology, but not because I’m offended. ‘I don’t know,’ I say. ‘You wanted me, I thought. And now you’ve had me.’

‘I said six months and I meant six months.’ He runs a lazy finger down the side of my neck, raising goosebumps all over my skin. ‘And if we spend those six months entirely in bed then I won’t be unhappy.’ Amusement glitters in his eyes. ‘We can do it in ten-minute increments, if you like.’

I’m starting to recognise when he’s teasing me, and he’s definitely teasing me now about what I said about sex. It makes me think about my certainty, and how long it took, and then the look on his face as I said it…

Now I really do feel stupid, because he’s shown me what sex can be like, and the depth of my lack of understanding astonishes even me. God, I hate it when I miss things.

‘What is it?’ he asks, obviously seeing the change of expression on my face. ‘Did I say something wrong?’

He’s not teasing this time, he’s serious, and it seems ridiculous to be embarrassed after what we just did together, so I say, ‘I feel silly now—for telling you about that.’

‘Hey,’ he says, his voice softening, the gold of his eyes pinning me in place.

‘You didn’t know. There’s no shame in not knowing something.

’ Again, all I can see in his eyes is sincerity.

‘If anyone should be ashamed, it’s your husband.

He had you and all your passion in his bed, and he didn’t do a thing to help you unlock it.

But it’s there, Katla. It was always there. ’

He’s genuine. For some reason it’s important to him that I understand that, and something in my chest eases. A tight feeling that has been there so long I almost stopped being aware of it at all.

You can believe him. You can trust him.

It seems strange to think that about a man I’ve known for little more than a handful of hours. But…everything he’s said to me has been true so far and I’m starting to think that maybe I can trust him. I can trust him to give me pleasure at least, that’s for sure.

I nod slowly and then, because that feels too inadequate, I reach for him and lean forward, pressing my mouth to his. Telling him without words that I appreciate what he’s just said.

‘There will be a next time,’ he murmurs against my lips. ‘There will be as many next times as you want there to be.’

‘Good,’ I murmur back. Then, thinking about it, I ask, ‘How long approximately was that? You know, for future reference.’

He smiles. ‘About half an hour. Seems like it might take us a while to get to six months.’

‘Excellent,’ I say. Suddenly I’m not worrying about those six months. I think we’ve found a way to spend them all very nicely.