his smallclothes.
Anne could not look away from his erect penis. She had never before seen an aroused man, and the sight was far more compelling than any statue or painting. He was thick and slightly curved, with a gleaming, broad head.
His low chuckle brought her attention back up to his face. I knew it.
Knew what?
You were a zephyr waiting to become a tempest.
She was wry. Another investment pays off.
Yet he shook his head. This isnt business. We waited for a reason. So it could be more than cold commerce.
I am assuredly not cold.
Leo grasped the hem of his shirt, the only article of clothing he still wore. Then hesitated, frowning.
Desire made her audacious. She knew what his body felt like beneath his clothing, and understood that it would rival even the sunrise for beauty. Dont be shy. Let me see you, too.
I have ... marks.
It does not matter.
To her disappointment, he lowered his hands. Not yet. Then he knelt on the bed and lowered himself beside her. She would have voiced her complaintthat it did not matter to her if he had scars or any disfigurement, because to her, he would never be anything other than magnificentbut his kiss stole her words.
They wrapped around each other, and she discovered she loved the contrast of his muscular, hairy legs with her soft, smooth limbs. The burning heat of his body soaked into hers, even with his shirt between them, and as their mouths met and devoured, his erection pushed insistently toward her. He left slick trails on her belly. Leo rolled them over, positioning himself above her, then slid his penis between her folds, teasing without entering her.
It felt so strange, to have someone other than herself give her pleasure, conferring such personal demands to another. Yet it made sense, for if anyone could touch her so intimately, it must be Leo.
He touched her like this; pleasure built again, pushing away lingering traces of apprehension.
Kiss me, he said, a hoarse demand.
She arched up, her open mouth to his. At the same time, he thrust into her.
Pain and pleasure collided. She had no sense of which was which. They were the same. And, oh, he was thick within her, filling her. He was everywhere inside her. A moments panic. It was too much. She would be lost. He was too hard, too male, too everything.
Yet after that initial thrust, he was still, and Anne willed her eyes open to see him above her. His face contorted, torn between pleasure and anguish. He held himself back savagely as her body learned the feel of his. The only sounds in the chamber were the muted pops of the fire, and his harsh breathing.
She relaxed into the sensation, allowing herself to experience this newness, for it was exotic, his body within hers. Yet true and right. Fear ebbed. Pleasure took its place.
Tentative, Anne brought her legs up, and wrapped them around his. His eyes flew open, silver and bright. He groaned her name. In response, she curled her fingers into his shoulders, feeling the bunch and strain of muscle beneath the cambric.
I want ...
Tell me, he urged gravelly.
An experiment: She tilted her hips. He moved within her. Pleasure followed, streaking through her hotly. More.
You can bear it.
Anything.
He took her mouth, kissing her deeply. And his body began to move. Sliding forward, gliding back. She had imagined this moment many timeswhat it would be like to have a man inside herand the truth far outpaced what she had envisioned. For the shadowy man of her imagination had no true will of his own, no real need. But Leo did. He had strength and hunger, entirely his own, and these she felt with every movement of his narrow hips.
She was not still, could not be passive. Her body had its own will. She met his thrusts, and pulled him tighter. Pain limned the edges of sensation; it swirled through her in a spiral of dark and light.
The world spun further, and she realized that Leo had actually turned over onto his back with her clasped against him, his body still deep inside hers. He sat up and edged backward, until he leaned against the carved headboard and Anne straddled him. The posture was altogether wicked, for it allowed her to see everythinghim, his face harsh with need, the shirt clinging to his slick torso and arms. She saw herself, too, nude save for her garters and stockings.
He gripped her hips. Look down.
She did. What she saw made her gasp.
Thats my cock. His voice was no more than a snarl. Mine. Inside you. Can you see that?
I ... can.
Watch. He pulled back a little, and she saw inches of his ... cock ... sliding out of her. Then he surged forward, and
she moaned to see him sink into her, disappearing all the way to the root. Had she not witnessed it with her own eyes, she would never have believed she could contain his length, yet she saw and felt and knew.
She was truly his wife, in every way. Just as he was her husband, in all meanings.
Now. He released his bruising hold on her hips, and grasped the headboard, his arms outstretched. His eyes glittered. You take us there, Anne. Show me. Show us both.