“Don’t be frightened, Della. I’m meant to be inside of you.” The words sounded tormented.
Della began to speak, but he swiftly thrust into her, cutting off her words as he imbedded himself fully. She yelped in surprise as her muscles were stretched around his thick arousal. The penetration was deep. Brant made a strange, animalistic noise. Her eyes widened in bewilderment and she felt claimed, conquered. For a moment, he held still, frozen with a look of ecstasy on his face.
“Finally,” he whispered.
Brant pulled his hips back, rocking in short, deep thrusts, as if to test the fit of their bodies. Della didn’t move, just let him take control. The ache lessened and she was left with the beginning sensations of pleasure. His movements became bolder. The pressure eased as his shaft glided to her entrance.
Thinking he meant to stop, Della leaped into action. She moaned in protest as she wrapped her legs around the backs of his. Using all of her strength she forced him to thrust into her again, this time even deeper. The eager motion brought with it throbbing gratification. She loosened her legs to intuitively do it again. She could not have stopped if she wanted to. The force within her was so innate, so natural that she was helpless against it.
Driven by the primal need for release, her head turned back and forth on the bed in sweet torment. Brant grabbed her under her knees and forced her legs farther apart. He pushed her legs as up and open as they would physically allow, tossing one of her knees over his shoulder. As he showed her how deep this new position allowed him to delve, his finger moved to her sex, rubbing along the hard bud. Sensation after astonishing sensation washed over her.
Della stiffened, the tension building with each of his thrusts. She panted and moaned in encouragement, mindless of anything but the man on top of her. His hips slammed against her, almost violent in their need. She wasn’t afraid of him as she returned his savage motions thrust for thrust. He moved faster within her, pushing her toward an unknown destination. Without warning he tensed between her thighs, pressing one last, hard time into her. Della felt her body quake with an inner force that was so great she swore she fell off the edge of the earth.
Brant’s primeval yell reverberated off the chamber walls. She was beyond sound as her mouth opened in wonderment. He jerked his release, staying deep as he staked his claim to her. She would never be the same again.
Brant didn’t move. Something unfamiliar stirred within him as his heart slowed and his blood calmed. For so long, he could think of nothing else but bedding his beautiful wife. At first, as he bathed, he’d been taken aback by the small shows of affection she’d given him, and the torture of her innocence had almost been too much for his straining body. But, as her resistance faded, so did her fear. The entire time he’d been with her, all his wife had needed was a gentle hand. He smiled at the thought, savoring the stillness of her body against his.
He’d waited so long to hold her against him and now here she was, all his. Brant shifted his weight, pulling out of her so he could rest on his side. Words welled within him, but he wasn’t sure he liked where his thoughts traveled. He treaded on unfamiliar territory. His stomach tightened, unsure as to what to say to her, but he knew he was not about to get trapped into a sentiment of love just because his body felt more sated than it ever had.
Once he was inside her, deep and sure, he’d been hard pressed to allow her time to adjust. Never had he resisted the natural urges of his loins for quick penetration, but before he never had a reason to go slow. The wanton maids he’d been with sought as selfish of a release as he. And though he treated them gently enough, they were nothing compared to the woman at his side.
He propped himself up on his elbow and ran his index finger down the valley of her breasts. Della shivered and tried weakly to pull the fur to cover her body. Her cheeks colored and she hid her face from him.
“Nay, princess.” Brant moved his hand more possessively around her waist. “Do not hide yourself from me. I am your husband and I get much pleasure from looking at you. There’s no shame in it.”
Nuzzling her neck, he was careful not to scratch her with his beard. Her lids were lazy over her eyes, as she said, “I’m cold.”
Brant sighed and sat up. He tugged the fur from underneath them and tenderly wrapped it around their bodies. Then, pulling her into the crook of his arm to lay tightly next to him, he rolled onto his back. The movement forced her to turn so that her head rested on his shoulder. A soft breast molded itself against his side and, though he couldn’t be sure, the nipple felt as if it might still be hard. It was almost as seductive as the wet curls tickling his thigh.