Page 88 of The Lord Meets His Lady

Her knees pushed into the mattress. She rode the tip of his cock’s head, acclimating herself to him. Slowly. His bollocks tightened painfully. He shook from clenched muscles.

“It’s been awhile.” Her alto voice was husky. “Please don’t move yet. Let me…adjust.”

Feminine hips undulated over him, each stroke sensual and slow. Her hair fell forward, masking her breasts. Pink tips poked through her hair. He reached up and palmed her breasts, kneading them, rolling her pointy nipples with his fingers, her cries of satisfaction urging him on.

“Yes. That feels so good… Your fingers…there.”

She grasped his shoulders and slipped halfway down his erection. Her pale thighs worked hard. Up and down, she rode him cautiously, not seating herself all the way.

“Gen,” he rasped. “I…”

His legs shook. He couldn’t wait. His body took over where words failed. His hips slammed into her, and he yelled at the pleasure of burying his cock inside her. Genevieve cried out, her dark eyes wide, but she kept going. Hips slapped awkwardly before his body found rhythm with hers.

The sheets rustled. Mattress ropes squeaked faster. He put one hand on her mons. Two fingers slipped inside her amber curls, finding the pink pebble at the top of her cleft. The touch imperfect, jostled from frantic thrusts.

Keening air came from her. Wild-eyed, she pushed hair off her face, her mouth forming an O. She stared at his hand buried between them. She was close. So was he. White-hot heat built lower on his spine, fed by his wife’s excitement.

His other hand dropped from her breast. He gripped her thigh. The bed frame rattled. Genevieve moaned. This was wild and chaotic. Her high-pitched cries turned feverish. Her body drove down on him. Skin slapped skin. He pushed hard back. Pumping. Head and neck strained off the bed. He wanted to see her and know what his wife looked like when she reached her pleasure.

A sheen glowed from skin he’d caressed. Tremors racked her body. Her hips bucked wantonly, and her mouth was wide open.

“Ohh,” she yelped and flopped onto his chest. “I can’t… I…”

His arm was still between them, his two fingers playing clumsily with her nub. She ground against him, her hips shaking with fast, desperate thrusts. Her mouth sought his, kissing him. Tongues touched and rubbed. He tasted salt and her, the velvety perfection of a deep kiss.

And he couldn’t get enough.

A guttural yell erupted from his throat into her mouth. He grabbed Genevieve’s bottom, one hand digging hard into her flesh. His body strained from head to toe, and pleasure’s white heat washed over him.

His bride gave one last shuddering moan. Little quivers shook her bottom, her thighs. Her inner channel pulsed around his phallus, milking him. Her head nestled against his neck, and he held her. Exhausted. Sated. Yet, he wanted more.

Heat rolled off their joined bodies. Sweat dampened his hairline. Genevieve’s skin gleamed in the firelight. She was beautiful and untidy. Her life as uncertain as his. And he didn’t want to let her go.

He freed his hand squashed between them. Wetness glistened on his fingers.

“Don’t…move,” Genevieve grumbled against his neck.

He chuckled, his sex-sated laugh sending her blond hair falling over his face. “I’ll need to take my clothes off eventually.”

Another grunt. Her hips shifted, and she rolled off him. Stretching her arms and legs, she made a long, pale line on his bed. Genevieve pushed herself upright, amber hair tumbling over dreamy eyes. He traced her spine. Tender gooseflesh followed his touch. The top of her bottom’s cleft peeked provocatively from a nest of bedsheets. The night was ending perfectly, with more intimacy to come. Once he got his clothes off.

His wife studied him over her shoulder, her coffee-dark eyes fathomless and quiet. Her mouth tilted in the tiniest frown.

He pushed up on one elbow and caressed the corner of her mouth. “What’s this? Are you sad?”

“Not at all.” She bent forward and plucked her shift off the floor, giving him the sweetest view of her heart-shaped bottom.

His breath caught. Did she have any idea how beautiful she was? How amazing a young woman she was?

Light shined through Genevieve’s mussed curtain of hair before she tossed it back and slid off the bed. The plush bed beckoned him back to fold himself around her and lose their twined bodies on a cloud of bliss. Sex and sleep. Or sleep and sex. He didn’t care which order as long as they were cozy and naked together.

Instead, his new wife picked up her clothes.

“There’s no need to tidy up.”

“I’m not cleaning.” She grabbed a shoe. “I need to get to bed.”

“Exactly what I had in mind.” He patted the mattress. “Right here.”