WEDDING NIGHT
Lying there with Blaine was an experience Chrissie had never imagined. Her body was aflame with wonder, limp with satiation. Yet, the moment he moved beside her, she wanted more.
“Blaine?”
“Yes?”
“Are you...do you...?”
Blaine smiled. “Only if you want me, lass.”
Chrissie blinked at him, feeling her eyes fill with tears. He was so different to any man she had known, or had imagined to exist. Thoughtful, gentle, careful of her in a way that invited her tears. “Yes,” she whispered. “Very yes.”
Blaine smiled, then. She had not realized until now how very handsome he was, she realized now. He stood and, very slowly, he began to undress. He undid the tunic and lifted it over his head, then sat to unfasten his brogues. His trews he took off last.
Chrissie looked at him. He was hard with muscle, chest gleaming with perspiration in the firelight, corded and sculptured.
“Blaine,” she whispered. Seeing his naked body did arouse some fears. He was so big. He would hurt her. She knew he would hurt her.
“Yes, lass,” he said gently. “I'm here.”
He lay beside her on the bed. She felt his body against hers, his manhood soft and slightly damp. She lay there, shivering, his arms around her.
“You're cold, lass.”
“Uh,” she said, shaking her head in denial.
“Come inside the bed,” he whispered, and gently sat, rolling back the coverlet. He moved her gently, laying her on the sheet, and tucking the blanket over her. Then he got in beside her. Held her in the circle of his arms. He drew her against his chest and lay beside her.
“Blaine?” she whispered after a long while.
“Mm?”
“I'm about to fall asleep,” she confided sleepily. She felt so drowsy after what he had made her feel. She really would drift off. “So if you...”
“I will not lay a hand on you, save that you will it.”
She sighed, a soft, shuddering out breath. “I will.”
He propped himself up on his elbow. Looked into her eyes. “You are sure about that?”
She sighed a little impatiently. “Yes, I'm sure.”
He bit his lip, closed his eyes. “Thank you.”
“Thank me?”
“You trusted me.”
She blinked, surprised. Her brief experience had taught her men were impatient. Selfish. Uncaring. Here he was, wanting her to trust him? She found it confusing and perhaps annoying. It was also deeply moving.
She smiled at him, feeling older than him. He rolled on top of her and lay there. His loins pressed against her belly and she felt the moisture there. She wrapped her arms around him, closing her eyes.
“Right, then,” she whispered, biting her lip. She prepared for the pain of him forced inside her, the tearing, the burning.
It never came. His knee moved between hers, his belly lay against her for an instant and then she felt a sweet, blissful release as he filled her.
He was big, his loins engorged and pressing deep into her. Yet, it did not hurt her. He moved back and then forward gently. His eyes looked into hers.
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
He kissed her then, and that was too much. Her own tears fell and he kissed those even as he moved inside her.
“Yes,” he whispered. “Yes. And yes. And yes.”
His body was moving and, before she knew it, she was with him. Their thrusts timed in a way she would not have thought possible, except that her body knew and it knew his body and somehow they matched perfectly, moving down a landscape of pleasure in which his thrusts met hers. They pressed deep within her, finding a place where the feeling was delicious, where her body needed to feel him move and move, and move...
She cried out for the second time and he tensed, teeth gritting, and then he was moving within her, his body jerking and shuddering as he cried out too, a great roar, and collapsed on top of her.
They lay together while her tears flowed and the night breeze cooled their bodies and they slept like that until the dawn.
That morning, he kissed her mouth.
“My darling,” he whispered.
“My treasure.”
They clung together and Chrissie felt her heart fill with wonder.