Chuckling, he stilled her hand. “I love your enthusiasm but—”
“Stop laughing. This isn’t a game.”
He softened his tone. “There is no rush. We have a lifetime to enjoy one another.”
“Now there is no rush?” Her lips flattened, eyes flashing. “You infuriating man. Hurry up. I want a real wedding night.”
That caught him by surprise. “You do?”
“Yes, I do.” She shoved the other suspender down, then began unbuttoning his trousers.
My God. She was serious. His erection throbbed, desperate for her, and he found himself standing and quickly shedding his clothes before he even realized what was happening. While he removed his shirt, she opened the placket of his trousers and slid her hand inside. Warm pressure closed over his cock and his knees buckled as lust exploded in his groin. Cursing, he closed his eyes.
“I don’t know, Harrison,” she cooed. “You don’t feel quite ready to me.”
A strangled sound left his throat as he removed her hand. “If I am any more ready, I will spend before we even begin. Take off your drawers.”
She did as he asked, untying and sliding off her drawers and stockings as he removed his union suit and socks. When he was naked, he let her look her fill.
Her gaze lingered on his erection. “Are you sure you used enough fingers?”
Cool air kissed the heated skin of his cock and he couldn’t resist stroking it. Each pass of his hand was excruciating bliss and delicious torture. “No, probably not. But we may do all manner of other things besides fucking.”
Delicate brows shot up at the word. “You have a wicked mouth, Harrison Archer.”
“I think you like it. In fact”—he tipped his chin toward her cunt—“I know you like it.”
She reclined on the divan, all feminine grace and supple skin, and he hardly knew where to start. He wanted to touch and kiss her everywhere. When she parted her thighs, he could hardly draw air into his lungs.
He hoped this wasn’t something he’d regret later, but he was starving for her. And she wanted a proper wedding night. He had to make this as comfortable for her as possible.
Slipping his hands under her back and behind her knees, he lifted her just enough to slide underneath her body. Then he twisted her so she straddled him, her core on top of his shaft. She was hot and wet, and the proximity to that tight heaven was almost too much to bear.
She put her hands on his stomach. “I don’t understand. Won’t it be harder for you to take my virginity this way?”
“It’s not mine to take, it’s yours to give.” With a hand on her hip, he raised her slightly and placed his tip at her entrance. “Lower yourself down at whatever pace you need. It’ll hurt less this way.” He didn’t actually know this as fact, as he’d never fucked a virgin before, but the general physics of it made sense.
“Oh.” Biting her lip, she wriggled a bit, and Harrison actually thought he might die as the fat head of his cock worked its way inside her channel. This was so much better than he’d imagined . . . and he’d imagined it plenty over the years. Impossible to think he would last.
He ground his teeth together, struggling to hold out. “And if you change your mind, we can stop.”
“I won’t change my mind.”
She sounded determined, but the first time was more difficult for women. Licking his thumb, he pressed it to her clitoris and began rubbing her, hoping to relax and excite her. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, moving his other hand to her breast. “I loved putting my mouth between your legs.”
Moaning, she slid down, taking more of him inside. He continued to talk to her, praising her, and it went on like this for several long moments, her pussy squeezing his cock like a fist the entire time. He performed square root calculations in his head so as to not come too quickly.
“It feels good,” she said, her voice full of wonder, as if the fact surprised her.
He clenched his muscles, trying not to thrust upward until she was ready. “I’m glad, sweetheart.” His thumb kept working the nub atop her sex, his other fingers teasing her nipple, and she rocked her hips, chasing the pleasure.
Inch by torturous inch he tunneled deeper, her body sucking him inside. Her arousal coated his cock, the most provocative sight he’d ever seen. When she bottomed out on his erection, she was panting, her eyes wide. “Now what?”
“Now you move.”
There hadn’t been pain. Maddie could hardly believe it. Pressure, and perhaps a slight pinch, but that was all. And now Harrison was seated inside her body, the two of them joined in the most basic and elemental way, her first and only lover. Her husband. The way he stared at her, as if she were the moon and stars and peppermint ice cream all rolled into one, made her relax.
And what he was doing with his hands had her squirming for more.
“Move, Mads,” he said again. “Do what feels good.”
“All of it feels good.”
He let out a rough laugh. “I am dying for friction. Please, have mercy.”
Ah. She lifted up, until he was barely inside, and then sank back down. Harrison’s eyes screwed shut, his face carved in torturous angles. “That’s it,” he groaned.
She continued to roll her hips, Harrison stretched out beneath her, his arms clenched at his sides as if struggling for control. He was absolutely gorgeous, from the hollow at the base of his throat to the strong chest with its light dusting of dark hair and flat nipples. Muscles and sinew sculpted his frame, one that had filled out since college. She hadn’t seen him shirtless in years, but she’d never dreamed he would look this appealing as a grown man.
He grabbed her hips with both hands and began rocking her, pressing her down into his pelvis. Her clitoris dragged over his pubic bone and sparks shot down her legs, through her womb, on every pass. Pleasure built as her muscles tightened, and she began helping him, grinding down, moving faster, chasing the peak just out of reach. He shoved up on an elbow and wrapped his lips around her nipple, sucking hard, laving with his tongue, and she could feel the answering tug between her legs. Bliss crashed over her, the orgasm swift and slightly less intense than before, but no less enjoyable. She cried out, her nails digging into his stomach as he rode it out with her.
“Oh, God. Hurry, Maddie.”
His plea sounded far away, her brain still spinning and sparkling. Then, before she’d stopped twitching, he angled her higher, brought his knees up and began thrusting from below. She held on, her breasts bouncing with every rough slap of his body, watching his handsome face as it twisted, grimaced, snarled . . . until he quickly moved her aside, his hand flying over his shaft as he pumped and squeezed. Jets of spend erupted from the tip and onto his stomach as the carriage house echoed with his shouts.
When he slowed, she collapsed at his side, partially draped atop him as she tried to catch her breath. He released his shaft and closed his eyes, his chest heaving. There was no hint of his thoughts on his face. Was he regretting that she’d talked him into this?
“I’m not sorry,” she said.
He blinked a few times before meeting her gaze. “What would you be sorry about?”
“About demanding a wedding night.”