Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
‘Yes,’ I nod as I speak, not quite certain the word will leave my mouth past my thick tongue, and then I feel something firm and hot slip across my flesh and I yelp, my hands flying up to his chest. He’s staring at me, and my eyes refuse to leave him, even though I desperately want to clench them shut and hold my breath. ‘Ready?’
I nod again, and he pushes forward gently, slowly breeching my entrance and sliding into me on a loud exhale of air. Pain sears through me, making me quietly whimper and dig my nails into his flesh. I know my face is etched with discomfort, and there’s nothing that I can do to stop it. The pain is quite something, and I know not how to handle it, nor do I want to complain and displease him.
‘Eliza,’ he grunts. ‘Jesus, Eliza, you’re so very tight.’ The strained expression on his face tells me he’s in pain, too. ‘Am I hurting you?’
‘No!’ I yelp.
‘I don’t want to hurt you.’ He’s braced on his arms, as still as could be.
‘It hurts a little,’ I admit quietly, inhaling back the pain. ‘But I do not want you to stop.’
He eases back gently, and the pain subsides somewhat, much to my relief. ‘It will become easier if you can tolerate it.’ He retreats carefully and rocks gently back inside, and the way he gazes down at me, as if I am the most exquisite thing he has seen and this is the most exquisite feeling he has experienced, does not help me with my fight to keep my feelings controlled. I never imagined that closeness with a man could be this intimate. I suspect it is not for many, just a transaction, if you will, an expected necessity, and I wonder with alarming worry how many women truly share this kind of connection with their husband, for if it was a guarantee that one would have this inexplicable experience each time she pleased him, no woman would be averse to being married at all. Except it is not a guarantee. Possibly not even a possibility. I fear this, what is happening now, is rare and it should be savoured. Cherished.
I find my hips lifting, wanting him to plunge deeper, now the pain has abated a little. He falls to his elbows and places his mouth upon mine, easing back and pushing in a little further, circling his groin. ‘Does it feel good, Eliza?’
‘Yes,’ I breathe.
‘I am inclined to agree.’ He teases my mouth with little dashes of his tongue across my lips, and it is maddening. So, bold and unabashed, I attempt to capture his lips and kiss him as deeply as he has kissed me, but he pulls away. ‘Slowly,’ he whispers, swaying in and out perfectly, gazing down at me and blinking lazily to match his gentle thrusts, stretching me gently, and I know his tactics are succeeding because the pain is becoming less each time he enters me, and, as if they simply cannot, his eyes never move from mine. This is special, I know it, and yet I am aware of how dangerous my thoughts are. I feel muscles within me, muscles that I never knew existed until I met the Duke, contract around him, sensitising me to each delicious pump of his hips, pushing me higher and higher. I begin to tense, and it feels essential, as if I am protecting myself from something. But what?
‘You are trembling, Eliza.’
‘I can’t stop it!’ I cry, becoming a little fraught by the unfamiliar bombardment of sensations.
‘You should not try, either.’ He gasps, his moves taking on an edge of urgency. ‘You must let it claim you.’
‘What? Let what claim me? And where will it take me?’
‘To heaven, my sweet lady. It’ll take you to heaven, and you may never want to come back to earth.’
I yelp, jacking underneath him, my body feeling so hot, like it could burst into flames at any moment. What is he speaking of? I shake my head under his mouth, not feeling in the slightest bit concerned. I’m too distracted by the heaviness between my legs, getting heavier with each gentle thrust. I never realised it could be like this.
‘Oh, Eliza!’ His mouth is ripped from mine and his chest swells, muscles roll, his veins pump beneath his skin, everything taut, including his face.
I grapple at his shoulders, my head shaking wildly. The pain has gone. My God, it’s disappeared and… ‘Johnny!’
His drives slow, but become firmer – more accurate and measured, and he kisses me softly. I become lightheaded, and my eyes start rolling and my hands, which are now grasping his mass of blond hair, shake too, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. An unknown pressure builds inside, and it must release.