Married for Christmas (Willow Park) (7 page)

To cut the sudden tension she felt, she said, “There’s no
reason to be
too
gentle. I don’t think I’m going to break.”

He laughed—his deep, familiar laugh. She suddenly realized
she should try harder to be sexy and romantic, rather than making him laugh.

She tried to think of something sexier to say, but
everything that came to her mind seemed absolutely ridiculous. Cheap, shallow
words. Not like her—or him—at all.

There was no sense in putting on a show, anyway. This wasn’t
the consummation of a great romance, and it wasn’t likely to be the kind of sex
that blew the roof off the house.

It was just them.

She’d barely resolved herself to this reality when he moved
over her and edged down to kiss her softly.

She’d kissed men before, but only a few and not very often,
so she wasn’t very experienced. Even his lips moving gently against hers now felt
new, strange, exciting. He smelled like soap, and she tried to relax into the
kiss.

His tongue delicately glided over the line between her lips.
When she parted them for him, he licked lightly across the undersides.

It felt increasingly good. Made her breath quicken and her
blood pound. She reached up to tangle her fingers into his thick hair.

She was just getting into it—starting to get the hang of
it—when he moved away, but only to trail little kisses over her face and down
her neck.

She gave a sharp gasp when he found a sensitive spot at the
base of her throat.

“How is it, Jessica?” he murmured against her skin.

“Good.” She gave another gasp as his tongue fluttered
against that same spot. “I like it.”

“Can I take your gown off?”

“Of course.” It made her a little nervous again, but it was
dark in the room. Her body was okay—long and slim—but it wasn’t anything
special.

She helped him pull the gown over her head and then
shuddered when his mouth moved down to her naked breast.

“Oh!” she gasped, grabbing at his head instinctively.

He flicked her nipple with his tongue, sending little tugs
of pleasure shooting down between her legs.

As his mouth moved against her flesh, another sensation
joined the first one. She shuddered in the wake of it. Then arched up as he
nuzzled between her breasts.

She tried to hold it back, but a little giggle escaped her
lips.

He raised his head. “What are you laughing at? I might be
out of practice, but surely I’m not
that
bad at it.”

She bit her lip, silently cursing her lack of control. She really
hoped he wasn’t offended. “You’re not bad at it at all. Your beard tickles.”

It was the truth, so she might as well admit it. Maybe it wouldn’t
spoil the mood too much.

He chuckled, obviously not offended. “If it really bothers
you, I can shave it. But I don’t think it will tickle for long.”

She blushed red hot when she realized the implications, and
pressure tightened at her groin. Not wanting him to get the best of her,
though, she said, “That sounds kind of smug. I’m not sure I’ve seen any cause
yet for you to be—”

She broke off with a ragged gasp when he grazed her nipple
with his teeth.

“What were you saying?” he asked, a delicious kind of
texture to his tone.

“Don’t be smug.” She wanted to laugh, which was so strange
since she was quickly growing aroused at the same time.

He kissed and fondled her for several minutes, and it wasn’t
long until his beard tickling was the last thing on her mind.

She’d never felt like this in her life—like she couldn’t
quite control the motion of her body. Her hips kept rocking restlessly, and she
was stroking and clutching at Daniel’s back, head, and chest. She started
making silly little sounds, although she tried to stifle them since they made
her self-conscious.

Something visceral was changing in Daniel’s body too. She
couldn’t quite pinpoint the signs of the change, since he was still caressing
her very carefully and often checking to make sure she liked it.

But he was tenser now as he moved on top of her, and his
touch wasn’t quite as controlled. He took her breast in his mouth again, but
this time it felt more eager, more excited.

She pressed up into his mouth, pushing his head down to hold
it in place as he suckled. It felt so good—and so frustrating at the same
time—that she couldn’t hold back a soft sobbing sound. One of her legs had
somehow wrapped around his hips, although she wasn’t conscious of moving it,
and she found herself shamelessly rubbing herself against his hip to ease the
ache at her center.

As she rubbed, she found something else, so she rubbed
against that too.

He groaned against her breast, his body tightening palpably
at her motion.

“Do you think you’re ready, Jessica?” he asked, jerking his
head up and straightening his arms.

“Yeah,” she gasped. “Oh yeah. Please.”

She sounded too eager, but there was absolutely no way to
hide her response.

She wanted him so badly she might scream. She’d never
realized she was capable of feeling this way.

He groaned again, with a different resonance this time, and he
repositioned himself above her so he was lying between her legs and his head
was just over hers.

“Are you sur—”

“Yes,” she interrupted, practically clawing at his back to
get him in position. “Hurry up. I’m dying here.”

He gave a huff that sounded like laughter.

Then she suddenly wondered if he would prefer a woman who
was more innocent and passive, who would let him take control. Maybe that was
how Lila had been—since she’d been sweet and compliant in all other areas of
her life.

She didn’t dwell on the question or comparison, though. Even
if that was what Daniel would prefer, Jessica just couldn’t be that way.

When he kissed her mouth again, she responded passionately,
tugging at his hair and tangling her tongue with his.

He wasn’t as careful as he’d been when he’d kissed her earlier.
He devoured her mouth, making husky sounds in his throat as the embrace deepened.

She rocked up into him as they kissed, mimicking the motion
of lovemaking. Increasingly desperate for relief, she reached down to grab the
waistband of his pajama pants and tried to push them down over his lean hips.

He pulled out of the kiss enough to help her, but after he’d
rid himself of the pants, he was kissing her again.

Her mind was a blur of sensation and excitement, and she
couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

Then she suddenly felt his hand between her thighs,
exploring until he’d slipped a finger inside her.

She gave a breathless little cry and arched up at the
sensation.

“You’re ready.”

She didn’t know if it was a question or a statement. Either
way, it should be pretty obvious she was ready. “Yeah. Oh yeah.”

“Do we need any—”

She knew what he was asking, so he didn’t need to finish. “I
started birth control after we got engaged.” She might want kids, but not
yet—not before they got used to being married to each other.

He repositioned himself again, putting more weight on his
knees. Then he took his erection in his hand and lined himself up at her
entrance.

“It might not be that great for you, this time,” he said,
his voice almost rough with texture. Even in the dim room, she could see his
dark eyes searching her face, looking for any signs of discomfort or
hesitation, despite how obviously excited he was.

“I know. I know how things work. I’m ready.”

Then he started to enter her.

He didn’t go in all at once, the way she’d been expecting.
He slid in and out, just at her entrance, in a series of fast little thrusts.
He kept up the same kind of motion, in and out, slightly reangling, as he went
increasingly deep.

It felt really good until he was almost all the way in. Then
the pressure became genuinely uncomfortable.

“You okay?” he asked, when she arched up automatically.

“Remember what I said would happen if you kept asking me
that?”

“Are you going to scream?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you really okay?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

He was holding himself still now, supported by straightened
arms. “Does it hurt?”

“Not really. Just pressure. It’s going to be fine.”

The discomfort had taken the edge off her arousal, though,
so she was a little disappointed as she breathed slowly to relax her body.

She supposed it was too much to expect to be swept away by
passion on her very first time. She wasn’t a silly girl with unrealistic
fantasies about this. Things didn’t have to be perfect to still be good.

He pulled out, relieving the pressure. Before she could
object to his retreat, he entered her again, using the same in-and-out
penetration. It was better this time—didn’t hurt nearly as much.

“Okay?” he asked. His arms were shaking slightly as they
supported his weight above her, and she could feel heat radiating off him.

“Yeah. It’s good.” Not wanting him to get distracted by
worrying about her, she pulled his head down into a kiss.

He kissed her back immediately, his tongue thrusting
rhythmically into her mouth.

She responded with her own tongue and then with her body.
Her hips rocked up into his, shifting his erection inside her in a way that
felt so deep, so strange.

He groaned thickly as he broke the kiss. Then he started to
move over her, pumping his hips until, with a few starts and stops, they’d
established a rhythm.

He was really into it now. He started to make grunting
noises, and his body shook with tension beneath her hands. She held on to him
and tried to match his thrusts, although she wasn’t sure she was doing a really
good job.

She wanted him to enjoy it. It wasn’t as uncomfortable now,
and other sensations were starting to build. Although not every fast and not
with the intensity they’d had before he’d entered her.

“Jessica,” he rasped, his motion accelerating even more. “Jessica.”

She made a little whimper of pleasure, both from their
motion and from the way he was saying her name.

She bent her legs, bringing her knees higher as he changed
positions slightly.

“How is it?” he managed to huff, although in the dim light
his face twisted in effort.

He was sweating. She could feel the dampness under her palms
as she stroked his back.

She was touched that he was so concerned about her enjoying
it too, even as he was pretty far gone. “It’s good. It’s so good.” She cried
out as she felt a sharp jolt of pleasure, completely unexpectedly. “So good. So
good.”

He leaned down to kiss her again, but he obviously didn’t
have much coordination left. Neither did she. Their mouths moved clumsily together
for a minute before he raised himself on his arms again.

His motion was almost wild now. “I’m not sure I can hold out—”

“It’s fine.” She felt so odd, so overwhelmed, like she might
cry. “I’m good. I want you to come.”

He released a long moan as his hips jerked against hers.
Then he moaned again, differently, as his body suddenly froze and then
released.

She loved how it felt—loved how he’d taken such pleasure in
her, loved that she could give it to him.

She felt closer to him than she ever had before when his
body slowly relaxed and he lowered himself over her.

She hugged him against her, and he mumbled out words she
couldn’t quite understand as he pressed kisses into her neck and jaw.

She responded when he kissed her mouth, softly now, without
the urgency of before. Then she was surprised when he reached down to stroke
her hip and thigh. When he pulled out of the kiss, his other hand slipped up to
her left breast.

“What are you doing?” she asked, shifting a little under his
touch. “I thought it was over.”

“It was over for me, but I think I enjoyed it more than you
did.”

She sucked in a sharp breath when his head moved down to her
breast. “You don’t have to do—”

One hand slid between her thighs to explore. She was wet
from her earlier arousal and his release, and her flesh was still sensitized
and pulsing. “It’s not about having to,” he said in a low voice. “It’s about
wanting
to.”

Her body was reacting, was already trying to work into an
instinctive rhythm. She stretched her back and inhaled sharply as his fingers
fondled her intimately.

She felt a swell of deep affection at how serious he was
about pleasing her. She grabbed at his shoulders and held on. He evidently knew
exactly what he was doing. Two fingers were pumping in and out of her tight
channel, while his thumb massaged her with deep precision. He matched that
pattern with his mouth on her breast, and so she felt dual tugs, dual
sensations building inside.

“Daniel,” she groaned, her voice barely recognizable. “Daniel,
it’s so good. Do it just like that.”

Her hips were starting to thrust into his motion, deepening
the sensations, accelerating the rhythm, but she wanted to feel close to him in
a different way.

“Daniel,” she gasped, pumping her hips faster, pulling him up.
“Daniel, want to . . . kiss you.”

She whimpered when he adjusted up and captured her lips with
his mouth.

Then it was his kiss, his touch, his rhythm—all working
together in unison. He began to curl his fingers inside her, and her whole body
shuddered in response. She felt the sensations coalescing, building, mounting,
swelling toward that one moment of release. She was damp with perspiration and
panting under his mouth. Right at the moment before she climaxed, he pulled his
head up out of the kiss.

She knew he was watching as her hips jerked erratically, as
her face contorted in pleasure, as her upper body came flying up in a momentum
she couldn’t control. She cried out hoarsely and clawed at the skin on his bare
shoulders. Her muscles clamped down violently around his fingers, but he
sustained his steady motion until the contractions stopped completely.