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* * *
Ambrose had thought prolonging the foreplay would be a wonderful idea, but his throbbing manhood cursed him for his foolishness. He unbuttoned the fall of his breeches to make it easier for Eala to find the buttons of the waistband. He held on to her as she began to ease the breeches over his hips. “Fastened at the knees as well,” he cautioned.
Her obvious inexperience with male attire had him licking his dry lips. The need to mate with her only intensified when she stripped him of his breeches. As he bent to remove his garters and stockings, he decided it was a good thing the long shirt covered his drawers. She might have been alarmed at the sight of his shaft straining at the confines of the thin linen undergarment.
Nevertheless, he could wait no longer. He yanked the shirt over his head, dropped his drawers and opened his arms wide.
A myriad of emotions played across Eala’s face as she stared at his nakedness. He’d never felt so admired, so loved, so wanted. However, there was a hint of doubt in her wide, brown eyes. “I ken I am big,” he whispered, “but I’ll make sure ye’re ready.”
She nodded, closing her eyes when he reached for the hem of her sark and peeled it over her head.
Completion
Eala held her breath as Ambrose raked his gaze over her trembling body.
“Ye’re cold,” he said softly, taking her into his arms.
In truth, she was on fire, awed by the sanctity of what was happening. However, she kept silent, relishing the heat of his big body.
They clung to each other for long minutes, skin touching skin, breasts to chest, belly to belly. The fledgling peat fire in the grate roared to life. Floating in a cocoon of bliss, Eala knew she would forever remember these moments when her body was preparing to receive the man she loved for the first time. “I was born to love ye,” she murmured into his chest.
He lifted her onto the bed. “And I ye, Eala. Ye’re in my soul.”
He’d expressed her feelings perfectly. “Aye,” she whispered just before he loomed over her, his mouth seeking hers.
He nibbled her lips, gently, and she responded, sifting her fingers through his hair. His kisses became more urgent as his body heated. His ardor inflamed her, and she returned the kisses with equal enthusiasm, growling sounds she’d never made before.
When his tongue coaxed open her lips and delved inside her mouth, she welcomed him and suckled like a babe. They feasted on the joy of this first intimacy as their tongues mated. She surrendered completely and let him breathe for her.
The slight friction of his evening stubble on her face became an erotic delight when he shifted his suckling efforts to her breasts.
She’d never realized her nipples and the very private place between her legs were so intimately connected. The harder he suckled, grazing her nipples with his teeth, the more insistent the warm ache blossoming just there, where…
“Aye,” she screamed when his clever fingers found the exact place she’d been on the verge of begging him to touch.
Her brief concern about the unusual moisture blew away like chaff on the wind when Ambrose rasped, “Ye’re so beautifully wet for me.”
* * *
Ambrose’s fingers had no trouble finding the diamond of Eala’s desire. The little nub was swollen, begging to be played with.
His tarse saluted her guttural moan when he stroked, slowly at first, then faster as she tossed her head from side to side, keening needy sounds. He’d never had the inclination to taste a woman’s juices but, now, he was torn between putting his mouth to his wife’s lower lips, or simply bringing her to a climax and thrusting his needy cock deep inside.
His thirst to lick her argued for the tasting; his manhood insisted on the joining.
Shuddering with the effort of delaying his release, he lowered his mouth to sip Eala’s honey, elated when she made no move to draw back or censure him. Her trust encouraged him to insert a finger into the wet warmth, then two. He moved in and out as he suckled, clamping his arms around her thighs when she quickly climaxed.
He’d be surprised if the folks in the dining room downstairs hadn’t heard her ecstatic scream. But he didn’t have time or inclination to worry about that. He positioned himself at her opening, thanking the good Lord for the gift of perfect pink wetness, and thrust.
* * *
Eala expected there would be pain when she lost her maidenhead. Phreine had insisted the pain was unbearable. However, the discomfort was so fleeting, she barely noticed it, consumed as she was by the wonderful fullness of Ambrose’s most intimate part deep within her.
She matched his rhythm, clinging to him as the speed and intensity of his thrusts increased. Tears threatened, but they were tears of absolute joy that soon…soon she would reach the pinnacle Ambrose was carrying her towards. They soared together. She stopped breathing when she tumbled into ecstasy, his shout of completion echoing in her heart.
One Track Mind
Ambrose was prepared to apologize profusely to Giles when they arrived in the snug to find him already seated at an elegant table set for three. “Sorry,” he said. “We were…”
