Bitter Oath (New Atlantis)(24)

It felt like it had been an eternity since they had kissed like this. He thrust into her mouth, greedy with lust. She tasted so good. Nothing had ever tasted so sweet. He took from her all the innocent passion she had to offer.

His hot mouth blazed a trail down her neck, while his frenzied hands unclipped the shoulder clasps, and lowered the front of her gown. Her naked breasts were revealed to him, and he covered them with his hands, needing them hungrily as he returned to kissing her mouth.

Then, when kissing was no longer enough, he replaced his hands with his mouth and suckled on her, loving the way her body bowed up to meet his hungry mouth. He loved the little sounds of surprised delight that came from her throat. He loved the way her hand roamed over his head and down his neck to his shoulders, as if she couldn’t get enough of the feel of him.

‘Do you have any idea how much I love you?’ he mumbled against her breast.

‘About as much as I love you?’ she replied as another little gasp of pleasure left her mouth.

‘More than that. Far more than that…’ his hand stroked the delicate fabric of her gown down her body, and he reluctantly left off his suckling to finish the removal. When he had made short work of her shorts as well, he returned to kiss her mouth. Except for a little half-hearted modesty, she seemed more than willing to be naked before him. He hadn’t expected that. He thought he would have to deal with maidenly insecurity and shame until he won her over. This Livy was a delightful surprise.

‘Where has my shy virgin gone?’ he said, as he kissed his way from breast to belly button.

‘She’s here, my lord, but I am taking Jane’s lessons to heart.’

‘Jane’s lessons?’ he choked out in surprise, coming up to look deeply into her eyes. The image of Jane educating his wife in the erotic arts, was more than he wanted to envisage in his present state of arousal.

‘Yes. Last evening I asked her about … the consummation of our marriage. She told me to go with my instincts, and trust you. That there was nothing we would do that was wrong or sinful. She said it would not hurt much …’

‘Ah, sinful pleasure is my favourite kind, Ma Chere. And she was right, you can trust me. I will prepare you so that there is very little pain, and a great deal of pleasure, I promise.’

She smiled up at him, and reached for the catches on the shoulder of his tunic.

‘You want me naked too? I’m not sure you’re ready for that sight yet, my impatient bride.’

But he let her release the catches and undid his belt so the tunic would fall to his waist, still covering his painful arousal. Her hands stroked at his chest.

‘I thought men had hair on their chests…’ she observed thoughtfully.

‘This body is young yet, although my Obewje blood means I am more hairless than most. Would you prefer me with hair? I can have it grown if you wished it.’

‘No. I like you just the way you are. Can I kiss you here, like you do me?’

The shock of her shy request had his arousal jerking against his shorts. She noticed, and with one curious hand she tentatively touched him. With a little grunt of surprise, she drew back at the movement.

‘What is that?’ she asked nervously.

He stretched out beside her, slid out of his shorts and the rest of his tunic, and never took his eyes from her face. Her eyes were as big as saucers, and her mouth was slightly agape as she stared at his aroused member, pulsing under her scrutiny.

‘Your thoughts?’ he asked gruffly.

‘That is what you will enter me with? I do not think it will fit. There is an awful lot of it.’

He had to laugh, what else could he do? He roared with it, all the pent up emotion of the last few days finally finding an avenue for release. After her first shocked response to his laughter, she began to laugh too, and in convulsions she fell over his chest, her glorious hair fanning out across his chest, tickling him.

When he had himself under a semblance of control, he tried to answer her question. ‘I am flattered that you think me large, but I assure you, I am only somewhat more than average. Your body will accommodate me easily, when you are ready. More thoughts?’

‘Can I touch it?’

‘Most assuredly.’ He tried to lie patiently as she made her slow and tentative approach. When her fingers finally grazed the full length of him, he groaned.

‘Why does it jump like that?’ Her fingers stroked him again, this time with more confidence.

‘I do not know. It is just part of the reproductive urge pulsing through me.’ He didn’t think she was ready for the scientific explanation anytime soon. Neither was he. Every sense was on high alert, waiting for her next move. He could barely remember his own name.

When the pleasure she was giving him became almost too much, he gently removed her hand, and laid her back on the bed. Very slowly, he began his own exploration of her body with his mouth. Everywhere he kissed and tasted her, she squirmed, and her breathing becoming a little faster and more laboured. Her little moans grew louder.

When he stroked her inner thighs with his fingers, she automatically drew her legs together.

‘Let me. Nothing is wrong or sinful, remember.’

Reluctantly, she relaxed her thighs, and let him spread her legs. Her triangular thatch of tight curls was dark golden, and he cupped it with the palm of one hand. She bucked against him, surprised and excited by the touch. When he slid a finger deep into her welcoming heat, she became very still, her breathing harsh, her eyes half closed.

It had been an extraordinarily long time since he had pleasured a woman. But the skills he’d master as a youth came back to him automatically. He knew exactly what to do to take her higher, and he did it with pride and confidence. His English Rose was burning bright now, her excitement and pleasure reaching fever pitch.

Using the honey of her body, he stroked her hardened nub with his thumb and felt her muscles contract around his finger. Feverishly, she tried to push his hand away, and yet draw it closer, all at the same time. Her movements were jerky and flustered, as if she didn’t know what to do about the sensations coursing through her body. Then his persistence paid off as she cried out, and she shot up off the bed as she peaked for the first time.

Laughing with delight, he waited for her to relax, and then slipped a second finger deep into her wet heat. Moving his fingers to mimic the dance, he pushed her over the edge again. When she lay quiescent once more, he removed his hand, and replaced it with his own aching arousal. Stretching her was torturous pleasure, and when she grimaced with pain he pushed past the virginal barrier as quickly as he could, so the discomfort was brief.

Then, when he had joined their bodies completely, he looked down into her face, holding onto his control by a thread. Her fawn eyes stared up at him in amazement, and then she smiled the most impish of smiles. Wordlessly, he dropped his head to claim her smiling lips once more, and was rewarded by the intrusion of her little tongue into his mouth.

It was too much. He drew back and then thrust deep, drew back and thrust deep again, feeling the slick friction building. Then it was only sensation, as he raced toward his own release. And when it came, he felt as if the top of his head was blown off, and he spun out into the Universe.



Liv lay beneath the heavy weight of her husband, feeling strangely dissociated from the world around her. For some timeless period, she had been pure sensation. Thoughts were forgotten, boundaries forgotten, conventions unknown. There had been nothing but Rene’s pounding strength battering her soft shores until even that distinction faded away, and she was the pounding strength, too. She was everything. And nothing. And it was so overwhelming that, for a while at least, she blacked out.

Her sisters had lied to her. The marriage bed was not painful, nor was it passingly pleasant. Pleasant was such an insipid word for what they had just shared. It had been wild and explosive, like the thunderstorm of two nights before. It had beaten her into submission with pleasure, and then sent her over the edge into ecstasy. Had it been painful? Exquisitely so!

And now as she felt Rene ease his weight from her, she wrapped her legs around his thighs so that he could not take from her that part of him that had fit so perfectly. That part that had made her whole.

Sensing her need, he pushed into her deeply, and the rush of pleasure swamped her for a moment. So tired… her body felt so tired… and yet she was energised in a way that she’d never experienced before. She wanted him to take her to that place again, and she squirmed under him, wanting more.

He laughed against her neck, and moved a little. Then his muscles of his torso became rigid. ‘Mon Dieu, I am hard again. This cannot be…’

She didn’t know what he meant. But she didn’t question him. The feeling of fullness was returning, and she moved her body so that she could make the most of the sensation. Then he was drawing back from her, and there was a moment’s fear that he would leave her. Then he was driving deep once more, and she cried out, and clung to his strong shoulders, afraid that she would fall.