Unable to wait a moment longer, she echoed his movement, licking his upper lip, and while he smiled in reaction, she pressed her mouth to his. His lips were lush, his mouth firm, and his tongue teased against hers, following when she retreated.
Then he took over. He filled her mouth, dueling with her, brushing against teeth and the roof of her mouth. She fell back against the squabs, letting him press against her. He was a large man, certainly compared to her, and she felt him everywhere and yet not close enough. Her hands had been by her sides, but now she gripped his arms as she clutched him tighter.
It went on for a glorious age, but eventually, she broke away as she gasped for breath. What an experience! And while she knew it was wrong, she ached for him to do it again and so much more. Her breasts felt heavy, her body hot with desire. She knew the stages of arousal in general terms. Suddenly, she felt them quite specifically. The tight pull of her nipples, the heaviness in her belly, and the wetness between her thighs. The upstairs girls hadn’t said how delicious it felt.
“One,” he rasped against her ear.
One what? Oh! One kiss. And she’d allowed him two, so there was more.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He smiled. She could feel the curve of his mouth against her ear. “Have you ever been kissed before?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“On your mouth?”
“Yes.”
“Anywhere else?”
She swallowed. “No.”
“Would you like to experience it?”
Yes! A thousand times, yes! But she couldn’t say the words aloud. She could only nod.
He pressed his mouth to the bare flesh just below her ear. She felt the rough brush of his jaw against the curve of her neck.
“Has anyone ever kissed your breasts? Have you ever felt the quickening inside your belly?”
“No,” she said again.
“I can show you. I can do it, and you shall remain a virgin. But you will know—”
“Yes!” she gasped. She had heard of such things from the upstairs girls, and she wanted to know.
He moved until he knelt on the carriage floor before her. He tugged her upright enough to unbutton her gown and ease it down her shoulders. Her corset was a short one, tied in front. He pressed his lips to the flesh above her chest, scraping his teeth across the skin before soothing it with his tongue. She felt him loosen the ties, and she took a deep breath that pushed the corset open. He tugged on the ribbons even more until it gaped in front and fell away.
Then his hands were on her breasts, kneading them in a way she had never thought to experience. Not like this. Not with every part of her body lifting with his movements while lightning shot from her nipples through her belly. He pinched her breasts, and she cried out in delight. She was overwhelmed with the sensations, and yet she wanted more and more.
“That is wonderful,” she breathed. Then an imp inside her made her press him. “But it is not kissing.”
“You want the kiss then?” he asked, his voice filling the darkness with a vibration she could almost feel. It teased her, and she ached to grab it, to hold it, and to let it caress every part of her.
“Very much,” she answered.
“As you wish,” he said, his lips barely grazing the flesh of her right breast.
She shivered with need. And then he made it even better as he used his teeth to tug at her nipple. Hot and quick while she lost control of her body. She arched and moaned. She spread her legs so that he could push closer. But he did not press closer. Instead, she felt his hand beneath her skirt, flowing upward over her knee and thigh, and bringing the hem of her skirt with it. Her legs were exposed to him, but in the dark, no one could see. Only feel. And she felt everything.
She might have said something, but she didn’t have the breath. She might have asked, “What are you doing?” She might have said, “Whatever it is, do more. Do it again.” But no words came, because he had moved to the other breast, laving it with his tongue, nipping at her with his teeth. The right breast was wet and cold, another feeling to contrast with the heat of his tongue on the other side.
“Do you like that?” he asked before he flicked his tongue up and down over her nipple.
Yes, yes, yes! Her mind was whirling, but she hadn’t the strength to speak. Not until he paused. Not until his hands and his mouth stilled.
“Don’t stop!” she said. Then she gripped his shoulders. “Please.”
She felt his fingers slide higher between her thighs. He explored where she was wet. He stretched and teased, deep into her intimate flesh while she held her breath. And whenever he stilled, she called out to him.
“Please, more.” She wanted to feel this. She wanted to know what this was like. “I have wanted to feel this for so long,” she whispered. “Please show me.”
His fingers delved deeper until they opened her folds. And then he suckled again at her breasts. She was clutching his arm, squeezing her thighs together. But his chest was between her knees now. She was spread open as his fingers worked magic. They touched her, they circled, and they pressed deeper inside.
Nothing had ever been in there before. Certainly not a man with clever motions as he pushed in and out, in and out.
Her belly quivered, and she couldn’t catch her breath.
His mouth left her breasts, and he stretched higher. His thumb was doing something, pressing somewhere that had her hips bucking. Harder. Faster. More! Oh, please, more!
“One last kiss,” he whispered.
“Yes,” she gasped. Anything. Because he had pushed his fingers deep into her while his thumb pressed against that other spot. Then he pulled back before doing it again.
A hard thrust of his hand.
“More,” she pleaded as she arched into his palm.
Again. And again. Fingers rolling and twisting while his thumb—
Pleasure flooded every part of her body. His mouth slammed down on her cry.
Her body burst with waves of delight. Pulse after pulse, rolling outward from his hand.
He held her pinned like that, as she writhed in wonder. He kissed her quick and hard, muffling her sounds. Her hips moved as his hand did. In and out. In and out.
Too much! Don’t stop!
Yes! Oh, beautiful, yes…
Until he stilled.
She was floating in bliss. His breath came in heavy pants against her cheek. He pulled his weight off her body and slowly withdrew his fingers from inside her.
“Your first quickening,” he said. It wasn’t a question, and she heard satisfaction in his tone.
“Is it always like that?”
He was silent a moment, then he said. “With me, it would be. If you wanted it.”
She did. Right then, she wanted to do that over and over again, every night for the rest of her life.
He fell away from her, settling more comfortably on his heels. But her breasts were exposed in front of him, and he couldn’t seem to leave them alone. Though one of his hands remained relaxed across her thigh, the other lifted her breast. It was a casual movement as if he wasn’t even aware of what he was doing. But it made her want him again. She wanted everything again.
She didn’t speak, and neither did he. In time, his other hand left her thigh to caress her other breast. She watched him, and what the darkness hid, she filled in with her imagination.
She saw his strong jaw, the straight line of his nose, and the luminous green of his eyes. She knew when his lips parted, and she felt the hunger in him.