he’d thought. In his infirmity or inconsideration or pure blind devotion to a dead woman, William Longstreet hadn’t shown Vivian even the barest consideration due between any two people sharing intimacies—on those few and distant occasions when he’d availed himself of his marital privileges at all.
“I won’t hurt you.” He smoothed a hand down her hair but could see even by the firelight she didn’t believe him.
“This won’t work,” she insisted, her expression miserable. “I’m sorry.”
“Vivian.” His tone came out more harsh than he’d intended, but the control he’d bragged of so easily was costing him. “Vivvie, don’t you want a baby? A child to hold, to love, to treasure?”
“I want a baby,” she said, near tears, “but I’m not suited to this… I just… I can’t…”
“Hush.” He kissed her forehead and withdrew. “We’ll go with another approach.”
“Another approach?” She sounded not at all reassured, even when he shifted to his back and held out his arms.
“Come here.”
She cuddled against him, apparently ready to be comforted, but he lifted her to straddle him, smiling at her surprise.
“What are we doing?”
“We’re getting you that baby,” he said, settling more comfortably on his back. “Mount up, my lady.”
“Mount…?”
He fished between their bodies to position himself, then arched up so she could feel his cock against her sex.
Her expression changed. “One can conceive like so?”
“Two can. You’ll have to kiss me back into the mood.” Which was a patent lie. His blood was nearly sizzling with the need to be inside her, to swive her silly.
“Kiss you.” She eyed him speculatively. “I suppose that will work.” She leaned down and brushed her lips over his.
“That’s it.” He slipped a hand over the ripe fruit of her breast. “This position has all sorts of advantages, now that I consider it.”
“Such as?” She brushed her lips over his again, and Darius thought she might have pressed the slightest bit down on his cock.
“I can fill my hands with the abundance of your lovely breasts.” He demonstrated, teasing at both nipples simultaneously. “If you like it, you should reward me, Vivvie.”
“Reward… you?”
“Give me a little more of what I crave.” He arched up minutely, and she didn’t resist. “What I need.”
He dug deep for mental and physical reserves he hadn’t had to draw on before, and let her nibble and tease her way down his cock. One kiss, one fondle, one sigh, one suckle, one nuzzle at a time.
He buried his hand in the hair at her nape, holding her over him several fraught, luscious minutes later. “I want to move, love.”
“Move?” Her voice was lazy, distracted, as if she were listening to some internal melody, and he hoped to God she was.
“Here.” He gave her one slow, controlled roll of his hips. “Let me move, Vivvie, please.”
“Do that again, slowly.” She looked thoughtful. He was inside her, not as deep as he’d like to be, but not just begging at her door, either. She sighed as he moved cautiously, and dropped her head.
“Just be careful.”
“Oh, I’ll be careful.” He gathered her close, meaning it. “So careful, but kiss me, Vivvie. Your kisses will help me take you slowly.”
Another lie, for her kisses had become languorous, lazy, decadent imitations of coitus that had him bowing up to devour her mouth even as his cock began to ply her with slow,
“You’re all right, love?”
“Mmm.” She hung over him, and he took her nipple in his mouth, not willing that she be just all right. He suckled, teased, and stroked into her, letting himself go a little, but only a little.
“This is… different, Darius.”
“Not painful?”
“Uncomfortable.”
Damnable word. He went still. “You move, then. If it hurts, you show me what you’re comfortable with.”
“I didn’t say it hurt.” She tried a slow glide along his cock, and Darius nearly shouted with the pleasure bolting up his spine. “It’s… unsettling.”
“Arousing?”
She didn’t answer, her expression suggesting she was too inwardly focused.
“Don’t think so hard, Vivvie.” He brushed his fingers over her serious expression, unable to recall when bed sport had required so much talking. He didn’t ask her permission but shifted on a slow roll in counterpoint to her movement.
“Oh… my… gracious.”
“You like that?” He offered her a tad more and prayed for fortitude.
“It… helps. I think.”
“How about that?” He let another inch of the reins slip through his mental gloves. “Does that help more?”
“Mmm.” She folded down, depriving him of the sight of her face should her eyes go soft with further arousal, depriving him of the sight of her breasts, rosy from his attention, begging for more. But she anchored herself on his chest, telling him he was free to pleasure her with his cock—pleasure them both—so he spent a few minutes easing her along, getting her used to the push and drag of two bodies intent on one goal.
“Hold on to me, Vivvie,” he whispered, sneaking in a kiss to her temple and fitting one hand around a full breast.
She clung, and he kept his tempo slow but purposeful, until he could feel her losing her grip, shifting from considering the sensations gathering in her body to being swamped with them.
“Let it happen, Vivvie.” He anchored an arm across her back and thrust deep. “I owe you this. Let me give it to you.”
“Darius…?”
He’d wanted a pleasant little appetizer orgasm for her, an introduction to further pleasures as a way to gain her trust, like the promenade at the beginning of a ball. But the way she was panting and meeting him thrust for thrust told him she was going up fast, hard, and hot.
“Darius… what? Oh, Jesus save me…”
“I’ve got you.” Darius felt her body begin to flutter and grab at his cock. “Let yourself go, Vivvie. I’ve got you.” He held her tightly, curling up into her embrace even as he thrust deeply into her, seeking heat.
And he hadn’t meant to let himself come, but she convulsed around him hard, then harder still, and in the part of his mind not incoherent with pleasure, he heard the words, “Give her a baby.”
Bliss rippled up from their joining and washed out over his body in long, hot pulses, until he lost the sense of where his skin separated him from Vivian, or any other aspect of creation. He heard himself moan—he never moaned—and felt himself clutching at Vivian more desperately than he sought his next breath. His body gave itself up to drenching spasms of pleasure, until he realized that harsh, grating sound was his breathing, and he was going to suffocate Vivian if he didn’t turn loose of her.
“Jesus.” He echoed her earlier prayer. “Holy Jesus.”
She pushed up to peer at him. “Was that how it was supposed to go?”
He smiled at her, loving the earnest concern in her expression, the rosy flush of pleasure on her chest. “It will do for a start.”
“You’re teasing me.” She settled down against his chest, content, and he was content to have her in his arms. More than content, God help him.
“Did I hurt you?” He was smug, intent on his point, and he emphasized it with a soft push of his flagging erection.
She lifted her face again to consider him, and there wasn’t any humor in her eyes.
