The burning pain that jolted her, Constance had not expected. She bit into his lips deeply, until she tasted the coppery tang of blood. She pulled her lips from his and buried her face in his throat, shaking, trying to process the sensations racing through her. Pain blended with pleasure, and she did not know if she wanted him in her or away from her. Lucan held himself still, peppering kisses along her shoulder, murmuring crooning words. He lifted her face from the crook of his neck with a finger. His eyes searched her face intently and then a dark sensual smile curved his lips.
She could feel his heart beating against her breast. He brushed a soft kiss across her brow, the most fleeting of caress and her heart clenched. Her eyes widened as he slowly pulled from her and sank back in her heat with shocking strength, encouraging her tender flesh to yield to his possession. The feel of him inside her, stretching her, filling her, was the most glorious sensation Constance had ever felt. He moved with long powerful strokes, and she gasped in sudden delight at the sensation that raced through her.
He lowered his head to capture an achingly sensitive nipple as he thrust deeper and harder. Ripples of pleasure began to build in Constance and broken moans were wrenched from her as exquisite pleasure-pain coiled and build inside.
There was pleasure and pain, sweetness and delight, but Constance yearned for something more. “Lucan,” her cry of his name was needy, desperate.
He released her nipple and claimed her lips in a scorching kiss. It was more than a kiss; he made love to her mouth as he worshipped her body with his. It was sweet, wild, and more intense than anything she had ever felt. “You are so beautiful in your passion,” he groaned. He kissed her hair, whispering praises and love, as if he couldn’t stop.
Her hands slicked over his sweat dampened skin as she held onto him while he rode her with deeper strokes. Delight pulsed in Constance, thrummed and expanded until nothing but heat and need filled her, then exploded into pleasure so hot and destructive she screamed. He brought her to the same pinnacle at least three more times until with a deep groan he fell with her.
…
Lucan was painfully aware Constance had not spoken words of love. Though he knew she had to feel something for him or she would never have gifted him her body, some doubt snaked in. He knew full well passion and love were two separate entities. The words themselves were trapped in his heart, yearning to spill free, but something locked them inside of him. It was as if he needed to hear her declaration. She lay on her stomach, soft, pliant, purring in her throat in completion. He kissed her shoulder blades and peppered soft kisses along her spine with gentle nips down to her buttocks. He had missed her so damn much. Her taste, her scent, her laughter. The fierce love making they had just tumbled in would not be enough to sate the raw need he felt for her. He doubted any amount of loving would satiate him.
The lush curves of her hips and her buttocks enticed, and he kept up a soft nibble and lick of her skin down to the curve of her hips. Her soft sighs and shivers had lust coiling in his gut and he wanted her on her knees, on his cock. He restrained the need, struggling to remember that despite her lush sensuality Constance was an innocent. Then she rolled her hips in invitation, and he groaned low in his throat. He had just spent deep inside of her, but he hardened again in a fierce rush of desire.
He came down on his elbow over her, and she turned her head to meet his lips in a kiss that shocked him with its raw carnality. Want slammed into him, hot and hungry and his hand tightened on her hips. She moaned into the kiss, her tongue stroking his in ravenous delight, her hips arching and rolling underneath him, teasing him, tempting him to lose control.
Breaking the kiss, he drew her roughly onto her knees. Instead of keeping her there, he sat back on his haunches and drew her up so that she straddled his thighs, the soft of her back pressing into his chest. Using his thighs, Lucan nudge her wider and notched the head of his cock at her slick entrance.
“Hmmm,” she all but purred, arching into him as he cupped her breasts from behind, rolling her nipples between his fingers. “I like this, Lucan,” she said on a throaty sigh, then a soft chuckle filled with delight echoed from her.
“I live to please you,” he teased, placing a soft kiss on her shoulder. Unable to wait, Lucan slid his hand from her breast to her hip to hold her steady and plunged inside her tight wetness in a deep surge. Her cry and his groan entwined in the conservatory, and though rain fell in earnest outside, sweat slicked both their skins. With another two hard thrusts, he buried himself fully inside her, then held still so she could adjust to the thickness of him. Lucan was aware of how large he must feel to her, because she was so damn snug she strangled his cock.